Category: REVIEWS

‘With micro-budgets, you need scripts that can be shot in one day, in one location, with a small cast and crew, and very little money. So, that was the challenge I set for myself. One room, two people are sitting at a table, write a story with a beginning, middle and end.’

That quote comes from Lorcan Reilly, the writer and creator of the award-winning short film Baghead, and it’s fair to say that the simplicity of the production, whether a financial decision or not, is a key factor behind the film’s success.

Reilly actually won the £3000 budget thanks to a funding initiative for independent filmmakers, and the film’s singular location takes place in the basement of your typical pub. While some like to use drink by means of drowning their sorrows and perhaps searching for answers, Baghead follows similar themes, with our central character, Kevin,  paying good money to see the ‘witch’ downstairs, and to ask questions only the dead can answer.

Set almost entirely in the pub’s basement, this is an incredibly atmospheric piece of horror filmmaking. Director Alberto Corredor makes good use of patient camerawork and interesting lighting to create a chilling mood, and the film’s sound design is nothing short of top-notch, complimenting an already uniquely disturbing score from Hollie Buhagiar.

The story is full of despair and uncertainty, feelings which translate to the viewer exceptionally well. The viewer will feel a great sense of discomfort as they watch the narrative unfold. As it becomes apparent what exactly it is that has brought Kevin to see ‘Baghead’, the film gradually begins to move with a spine-tingling intensity that is far more difficult to create than it may appear.

Oliver Walker’s central performance is as convincing as it needs to be, while Natalie Oliver also does great work, and Julian Seager steals the show, with his comical remarks offering a successful breakaway from the tension at the heart of the narrative.

The film’s technical aspects are, on the whole, oustanding, complete with superb make-up and practical effects that will make you nostalgic for the filmmaking of old; effects that truly bring the film to life.

It’s not difficult to see why this film has attracted such praise on the festival circuit. Despite the low-budget, there is something impressively professional about the filmmaking involved. It’s technically impressive, well-acted and executed, armed with a great deal of suspense and anticipation for a film of just 15 minutes in length. Despite the short run-time, the film is in no rush to reach its conclusion, with the filmmakers clearly keen to keep their audience on the hook for as long as possible.

Baghead is an expertly-crafted, atmospheric and unpredictable film, helmed by filmmakers with a clear passion for the art form. It’s as cinematic as it is discomforting, and it’s worthy viewing for any genre lover.

The Favourite is by far the most accessible of Yogos Lanthimos films to date. Taking a real historical figure, his unique directing style and a script full of memorable one liners capped off with stellar performances by Olivia Coleman, Rachel Weisz and Emma Stone make this a royally fun and entertaining way to spend two hours.

The Favourite is set in the 18th century when England is at war with France and Queen Anne (Olivia Coleman) sits on the throne.  The real power behind the throne is Lady Sarah Churchill (Rachel Weisz), Duchess of Marlborough whose husband is leading the British resistance against the French. Sarah manages the Queen’s moods, ill health, fickle moods and any other fancies the Queen might have. Their happy little love in is shattered by the appearance of Abigail Hill (Emma Stone), later Baroness Masham a servant and long distant relation of Lady Sarah. Before you can say social climber, Abigail, is in the Queen’s bed but how will Lady Sarah Churchill take this especially as the Queen is her lover as well. Who will be the favourite?

Good films start and end with the writing and this film proves this to be true. The writing duo, Deborah Davis and Tony McNamara. ensure that the script is full of zippy lines:  “we must fight for what we must fight for,“ or “I’m always on my side”.

The vulnerability and private distress of what it must be like to be monarch who is largely unable to produce children is brought vividly to life by Olivia Coleman’s much lauded performance.

What is refreshing about this film is that Queen Anne’s husband is never shown. The men add a little bit of texture but this is about the rather unusual love triangle between three women. It feels so fresh there are times you forget it is the 18th century. If you are looking for a historically accurate film this is not it. However if you are looking for something entertaining, stellar performances as well sumptuous cinematography and direction then this is the film just don’t dwell too much on the disappointing ending. The Favourite moves at a cracking pace and you’ll be hard pressed to pick a favourite out of the three leading actresses.

The Favourite is nominated for ten Oscars including Best Picture, Best Actress at this years Oscar 2019.

In an age post the #MeToo movement a film that deals with such harsh and archaic societal structures as Mariam Khatchvani’s Dede should standout as an interesting study of life away from the Western world, in which isolated communities abide by their own strict rules and law, viewed as backwards when compared to our societal norms.

The scariest part of Dede is perhaps not the differences it displays but the uncomfortable similarities. Ultimately, we’re not all that different, and that kind of sucks. Telling the story of a young woman who tries to rebel against the centuries old traditions that govern her homeland, and the trials she must face as a result, Dede seems almost prized to be at the forefront of many a conversation in the modern world. Unfortunately, despite some nice visual storytelling and an engaging central premise, the film is more concerned with unfolding in an almost traditional narrative way than it is truly exploring the ideas on display.

The picture Dede paints is a dark and almost harrowing one. Women have no say in this world, and men are at the top of the societal structure. And while it, at first appears to be going down a fascinating and unpredictable route, it quickly resolves itself to fall back on almost tired and overused tropes. The new lens by which these tropes are projected doesn’t so much reveal new ideas as it does highlight the old ones. But then, maybe that’s the point.

What makes Dede interesting, I suppose, is the way in which it frames its heroine, Dina. She isn’t so much a revolutionary figure making grand statements and fighting for all women’s rights as she is simply someone who dares question the normality of the world she finds herself. Her acts of “revolution” are small and almost un-noteworthy.

To say I didn’t enjoy Dede is to give it a disservice, I found myself captivated and gripped by much of the film. The opening is engaging and grabs your attention, and quickly the film establishes its central ideas and premise. I didn’t find myself losing interest in the plot so much as I did grow frustrated with it. Frustrated not just for the characters journey – and the outdated ridiculousness of many of the traditions on display – but for the fact that the film doesn’t seem to really challenge these ideas as much as it does simply present them and then move on, relying heavily on cliché and coincidence to move itself forward.

That’s not to say that there’s anything wrong with this, and often a film need only present its themes without offering up any sort of answer. Maybe that’s all Dede aims to do, but for me I came away feeling almost hollow by the experience. Yes, this is terrible, and I know that. But what now?

The cast are all on point and give good performances, which is impressive considering they were almost entirely non-professionals. They, along with the gritty realism with which Khatchvani captures the entire thing, give the film a sense of urgency and believability that can make for difficult viewing at times. It’s almost unflinching in its portrayal of struggle, and a lesser film might shy away from taking such an honest approach. I’ve got to give the film credit here for sticking by its style. The audience are put in an almost helpless, voyeuristic position. We watch these things unfold and then there’s nothing we can do about them.

Perhaps, then, that’s why it ultimately winds up feeling so empty. We can do nothing not because the film refuses to offer up any answers or solutions but rather because unless we keep fighting and unless people like our lead character in Dede keep trying to stand up to these old and harmful traditions there simply isn’t anything we can do.

Dede is a hard film to watch, and that’s not an accident. It isn’t that it’s violent or that it’s gruesome or that it’ll have you turning away from the screen at the horrors unfolding, it’s that it’s truth. Plain, simple, horrible truth that one can’t just ignore any longer.

As the ragged and shaky presentation of the first half gives way to the more serene and powerful imagery on display in the second, so to does the film leave us with it’s most unsettling and disconcerting thought. There isn’t a happy ending for the wronged heroine of Dede, as is often the case for so many tragic female figures. Perhaps later in her career Khatchvani might find the confidence to present her ideas with more strength, but as it stands Dede’s message is as clear as it needs to be. Bad things happen, and if we sit and watch they’ll continue to do so.